I will strive to be the best version of myself in order to provide you of what you deserve. I will give you everything I am, and everything I have to fulfill what you need. And even if it means I feel empty, I will fill you with love and hope. I will protect you from harm and love you for eternity.

And you - you just need to stay.

You are a piece of art
that doesn't belong to anyone

No museum can cage you

And I can blame gravity and fate for falling in love, or endlessly compare you to the moon and the stars; or I can just admit that there's something in you that tells me you're my half - maybe it's the way you fix your hair, or the way you bat your eyes, or the way you walk or the way you speak, or even the way you let me have the last piece of fries.

I look for you in everyone
Nay, I see you in everything

I see you in every empty seat
I see you in blur every time I blink
And even when I close my eyes,
I still see you

You're the ghost inside my head
And no matter how fast I run,
I can't save myself

There's something fascinating and subtly terrifying about thunderstorms - the way it touches the ground and the way it cracks the sky open. It's like the angels want to reach out to us, but whenever they get closer, something gets destroyed.

If a forever with you
is what heaven feels like

I'd be more than willing
to take my own life

Her laughter was better than the melody of my favorite song
If I could listen to it forever, I would
Too bad,
I haven't heard it for months

Her words were comforting
Even more soothing than the classics
She spoke the truth in the kindest ways
There are no words I'd rather listen to than hers
But her last words were the opposite

Her hug was warmer than the pink covers I've been using since I was six
If I could embrace her forever, I would
But when I touched her today,
She was cold

She was the best among all
If someone could have stayed forever, I wished it to be her
However --

Maybe home is not a person, maybe home is just a feeling after all; and maybe this is the reason why I feel that I don't belong - to a place nor to a person.

I've lost a lot of things that matter and my senses went with them. I can no longer feel anything.

Now home is just a memory.

I've given you warmth and comfort, but every time I invite you to stay a little longer, you'd tell me you need to go.  

Now I know what that meant, *I was your shelter but never your home.

Like the sound you hear when you hear nothing

I am numb

And even if it makes me feel so strong

It makes me feel so weak at the same time

I want to feel
But

Everything that kept me awake most nights no longer bother me, all the white noise I kept hearing was gone.

They were right, it is so much harder to write about things you cannot relate to - I can no longer write poems about longing and melancholy.

This is what it feels like to be a writer who has already been healed.

I am happy.

I will always choose
to break my own heart
than to break others'

I will always put
other people's happiness
before mine

It will always be okay
for my knees to be bruised
for my hands to be scarred
for my mind to be clouded
for my soul to be crushed
just to save others

And that's the sad thing

I've already established
that I come **second

I guess I like it better when it used to hurt. Now I have grown used to your absence, I feel nothing.

Angel, I do not want to forget you

I thought love was a positive result in a pregnancy kit, or those other three positive results we took to be sure we weren't dreaming.

And then I thought love was seeing you for the first time through an ultrasound machine. Love was then in black and white, and in the size of a rice grain. We could see your heart beating, it was fast, like you were excited to show us you were there.

And then I thought love was hearing your heartbeat for the first time, I still remember how it felt - it made everything real.

And then I thought love means vomiting in the middle of my commute, sacrificing all the junk I used to eat, and making sure I was healthy, so you could be healthy too.

And then I thought love was seeing you grow through a series of check-ups, seeing you become like I am.

And then I thought love was waking up to your kicks in the middle of the night, or feeling your hiccups, or seeing my belly move from one side to the other, letting me know that you are coming.

And then I thought love was counting the months, weeks, days to finally seeing you.

And then I thought love was getting excited to be induced which means more medical intervention, but also means that I'll be seeing you soon.

And then I thought love was getting through labor. I didn't even know how many hours has passed, every contraction was worth it.

And then I thought love was pushing for hours to deliver you in this world. I felt like a failure when I couldn't deliver you after three hours. I was ready to see you, but I guess I wasn't strong enough.

And then I thought love was opting for surgery to get you out. I chose to be awake for the whole process just to hear you cry.

And then I thought love was when I first heard you cry. I could not hold my tears, you made all the pain worth it.

And then I thought love was when I first held you in my arms, you were 7.1lbs and 52cm. You look like just your father.

And then I thought love was when we spent our first night home, you kept us awake, but I didn't care.

And then I thought love was being able to finally breastfeed you. I took every piece of advice there is to make sure I have enough supply. There were a lot of things that didn't come my way when I was delivering you, so I want this one thing to work for us both.

And then I thought love was this and love was that, but everytime I feel like I knew what love was, I feel an even greater love each time I look at you.

And even as I write this - looking at your right now sleeping on my tummy.. I feel an even greater love for you right now more than I felt when I started writing.

I love you, little one.

you've read about her in books
she's the kind of girl who likes saving the world, the kind of girl who has too little but gives too much


only,
*she's not the protagonist